Aethenhold Academy, Six Months Later
The sky was gold. Not from magic. Just from sunset.
Callen Ward leaned against the south tower balcony, sipping cold tea and watching the students below.
You wouldn't know this was the same Academy that once stood on the edge of collapse.
The courtyards were full. Students practiced tether glyphs. Apprentices dueled in the lower fields. Professors gave quiet lectures about flame theory and memory-stabilization magic.
It felt... normal.
That made Callen more uneasy than any Chronovore.
—
"Still brooding?"
Isora Gray's voice came from the doorway. She wore formal robes today, trimmed in deep crimson instead of white, a flame motif stitched at the hem.
"I'm not brooding," Callen said dryly. "I'm observing."
"Observing the sky count as work now?"
He shrugged.
"Someone has to make sure it's still there."
She stepped up beside him, eyes bright in the fading light.
"It's been six months."
Callen exhaled slowly.
"Feels longer. Feels shorter."
"Both."
They stood quietly for a few minutes before Isora leaned against the railing.
"The Council wants us to decide," she said. "If we're going to take permanent positions."
Callen raised an eyebrow.
"You mean the thing we've already avoided answering twice a week for the last month?"
"Exactly."
He didn't answer right away.
Finally: "What do you want?"
Isora didn't rush her reply. That was new. The old Isora would have burned through the conversation faster than her flame spells.
"Teaching could be good," she admitted. "Quiet days. Helping others. It's... not so bad."
"But?"
"But I keep thinking about what you said."
Callen frowned.
"Which part?"
Her fingers brushed the pendant at her neck—the same blackened phoenix-tether, now re-forged into a simple silver chain.
> "The Mirror."
That was what had been bothering them both. The letter from the First Tether. The shimmer in the sky no one else could see.
The thing that waited beyond the road they'd already walked.
—
A Council Meeting
Later that evening, they joined the official council session in the Academy's central chamber.
Professor Elyen, Rhoan, and several new instructors sat around a circular table made of reinforced obsidian.
"Thank you for coming," Elyen said formally. "We only have two topics today."
Callen raised an eyebrow. "Only two?"
Elyen smiled.
"Peace has its advantages."
The first topic was simple: rebuilding the southern library wing. Approved.
The second was less so.
"There are reports," Rhoan said, voice more serious, "of... anomalies."
He glanced at Callen and Isora as he spoke.
"Across the continent. Sudden temporal flares. Magic behaving as if under loop strain again—but without any hourglasses involved."
Callen's expression tightened.
"Mirrors?"
Rhoan nodded.
"That's what we thought too."
The council debated, but in the end, all eyes turned to Callen and Isora.
Everyone already knew.
If there was a new problem brewing... it would be them facing it.
Again.
Callen exhaled slowly.
"We'll look into it."
Isora didn't argue.
Neither of them could.
—
That Night
After the meeting, they returned to their shared tower suite.
The room was quiet. A few candles burned low. On the desk, Callen's old spell journal lay open, pages marked with notes about thread-walking and tether formulas.
Isora stood by the window, arms crossed.
"So," she said quietly, "are we really doing this again?"
Callen came up beside her.
"No loops this time," he said. "No timelines. Just... investigation."
She smiled faintly.
"Never simple with you."
"Never simple with us."
They watched the stars together.
Then Callen spoke again.
> "After this, though—after we settle whatever this Mirror thing is—maybe we really should teach."
Isora tilted her head, amused.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
He pulled a slip of parchment from his coat pocket. A note, scribbled in simple handwriting.
Two names.
One circled in red ink:
> Callen Ward – Foundations of Tether Magic.
Isora Gray – Advanced Flame and Loop Theory.
She stared at it for a long moment.
Then she laughed softly.
"Fine," she said. "But I'm making the first-years call me Archmage Gray."
"Deal."
They sealed it with a kiss, quiet and warm in the starlight.
—
Final Scene: The Mirror's Edge
Three days later, Callen and Isora stood once again at the western cliffs.
The same place where Callen had first Thread-walked all those months ago.
The sky shimmered faintly.
A ripple.
A Mirror.
Waiting.
Callen held out his hand.
Isora took it without hesitation.
"Together?" he asked.
"Always."
And with that, they stepped forward—into the next road.
Where no loops waited.
Where no hourglasses ticked.
Where only the choices they made now would shape what came next.
Together.
Forever.